


Stood Up (But Accepting Apologies Via Sexual Favors)

by sarcastic_fina



Series: Darcy Lewis Smut Week [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Coulson is alive 'cause he's too badass not to be, F/M, Humor, Romance, darcy reminding science minions that bruce has sex too, prompt: fuck me heels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastic_fina/pseuds/sarcastic_fina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I was hoping for something a little more eventful than getting hit on, staring forlornly out the glass doors at freedom, and eating pizza with an assassin… Like a night on the town that leads to naked time with my boyfriend eventful…"</p>
<p>Bruce accidentally misses a date with Darcy; but he has a way of making it up to her that she more than appreciates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stood Up (But Accepting Apologies Via Sexual Favors)

  
  


Darcy was torturing him.

Bruce glanced at the clock and sighed inwardly; all right, so she had good reason to be upset. They'd had a date scheduled for tonight and he was officially two hours late for it, which was what led to her invading his lab in a huff. In his defense, however, he'd had a breakthrough and pulling himself away from his desk had been impossible; when things started coming together, pieces fitting into place, everything else was deemed unimportant.

He winced, reaching up to adjust his glasses, as he directed his gaze back to his girlfriend.

Darcy wasn't looking at him. Instead, she was sitting on top of his desk in one of her favorite dresses. Personally, it was one of his favorites too. Darcy said it emphasized "the girls" and she just couldn't go wrong. But for Bruce, it had more to do with how the pale blue color set off both her eyes and the creamy white of her skin. It helped too that it hugged her curves, setting off her waist and the flare of her hips, wrapping around her thighs and ending just a few inches short of her knees.

He followed the lines of her dress, brow knotting, suddenly irritated with himself for not forcing himself away from his work for a few hours. She had her leg up, the sharp, thin heel of her shoe planted precariously on the edge of his desk. Not one for modesty, he briefly paused, turning his head to make sure nobody else could see up her dress. Thankfully her other leg was drawn in close enough to cover what he was sure were her favorite black lace underwear.

He cleared his throat, mouth going dry.

Some days, he questioned his relationship with science; it seemed to be hindering far more interesting aspects of his life.

But then, before Darcy came into his life, all he'd had to keep him company, keep him steady, was science. He'd burrowed his way into every question, every theory, until all he had was clear-cut answers. Control over an otherwise chaotic life and world.

Darcy represented the opposite of that, which was why he was constantly surprised by how well they worked together. Or, at least, they did when he wasn't distracted by work. For all of her teasing, and he knew she wore those shoes specifically to get back at him for missing their date, she had a well of patience for him when it came to his "scienc-y stuff." Maybe it was all the time she spent with Jane, making sure she was watered and had enough sun, but Darcy didn't often get on his back about his work. Sure, she interrupted to make sure he ate and slept and didn't think himself to death, but overall she had respect for his intelligence and how utilized it.

"I'm late," he acknowledged, sitting back in the chair.

"All right, but I want a DNA test. There's no telling if that science baby is mine or not…" she mused, raising a brow, still keeping her eyes set on the ceiling.

Bruce's lips twitched. Plucking his glasses off, he pinched the bridge of his nose and dropped his glasses to the desk top. "I'm sorry. I got caught up in something…" He shook his head. "It's no excuse. I know you were really looking forward to going out tonight."

"Pfft. Out?" She scoffed, her brow screwing up. "What is this _out_ you speak of?" She tilted her head back until it bumped against the wall. "Since Darcy doesn't play well with others and has a habit of slipping the guards _somebody_ asked Coulson to tail her, she's not allowed _out_ …"

Rolling his eyes, he said, "I thought we talked about this… Jane has a team that watches out for her too. I know you like your tazer, but it's not completely reliable. Even if, maybe especially _because_ , Tony's been fiddling with it…"

"And I thought I told you I've been sparring with Natasha," she bit back, eyes wide, brows hiked.

"Sparring twice and complaining that Natasha is trying to kill you doesn't make for much of an extensive self-defense history," he muttered.

"She _was_ trying to kill me," she argued. "I don't know if she was just skipping that whole 'Introduction to Ass-Kicking' part, but she went for the jugular! I had the bruises to show for it!" She frowned, pausing. "Okay, so they were hard to distinguish between all the hickeys you left there the night before, _somebody_ was frisky, but I'm like seventy-five percent sure most of them were from her."

Bruce felt a flush against the back of his neck that he reached up to rub away, briefly tugging on his earlobe as he glanced at the other scientists milling around the lab, trying and failing to act as if they weren't listening in.

" _Darcy_ ," he sighed.

She rolled her eyes. "The _point_ is that I haven't been outside in like three weeks…"

"You can go out all you want, I just want you to be safe," he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Well I was going to be perfectly safe tonight, except I was left standing at the doors leading outside for an hour, getting the 'sorry you got stood up you poor, gorgeous thing you' by the security team that wouldn't let me out unless you were there…" She rolled her eyes and huffed. "I mean, at one point, I almost took Agent Ramirez up on his offer to take me out and show me a good time on the town just to get some fresh air!" She picked at a loose thread on her dress. "I would've ditched him the second he looked away, but at least I would've gotten outside!"

"Ramirez asked you out?" he asked, scowling. "Did he conveniently forget who you were dating?"

"Well it's not hard to overlook when that person _conveniently_ doesn't show up," she returned sharply, finally turning to meet his gaze.

His scowl faded into a sheepish frown. "I know and I'm sorry," he told her. "It was a mistake. I could've— _should_ have put everything on the back burner for a few hours."

"Yeah, well, whatever…" She kicked her free leg, letting her heel bounce back and knock against the drawers of his desk. "Barton swung down from the rafters and offered to share his pizza with me…" She half-smiled. "Something about sitting on a support beam while you eat a slice of pizza the size of your head is oddly comforting."

"You were sitting on a _support beam_?" he asked, his eyes widening slightly.

She waved a dismissive hand. "Clint had these little strap things to keep me from falling… He said something about not wanting to be squished into a hawk-pancake my your giant green fist if I happened to fall and die."

Bruce winced at the mental image and rubbed his hands over his face, taking a deep breath. "You had… an eventful couple hours," he finally said.

"I was hoping for something a little more eventful than getting hit on, staring forlornly out the glass doors at freedom, and eating pizza with an assassin… Like a night on the town that leads to naked time with my boyfriend eventful…" She pursed her lips. "Where that naked time was going to happen, I'm not sure. I thought I'd try to snag you before the lab lured you back, so I might've wormed my way into borrowing one of Tony's town cars…" She turned her head and glared at a lab assistant that fumbled with their test tubes at hearing what she'd said. "Yes, little minion, even workaholic scientists get some on occasion," she snapped irritably.

Embarrassed, the man stumbled away quickly, face a bright shade of red.

Standing from his desk chair, Bruce held a hand out to her, realizing their conversation was getting far too much attention. She scowled at his hand and shoved herself off his desk, brushing past him and toward the lab doors. For a moment, Bruce just watched her go; that dress really did highlight some of her best assets. But it was the four inch black pumps with a peep-toe, telling red bottoms, and small silver spikes all over them that emphasized the personality of his vivacious girlfriend; who was currently glaring at him over her shoulder.

"Let's go, Banner. You stare any harder and your Igor's are gonna start going into shock."

He half-smiled at her, amused, before shrugging his lab coat off and telling his assistant that he would see them tomorrow. Waving goodnight to the others, he crossed the room and followed her out into the hall.

Darcy's arms were crossed as she walked at his side, purposely putting a few inches between them. When he reached for her, his hand itching to rest on the small of her back, she sped up. He watched the muscles stretch and move along her calves as she kept up her quick footsteps, staying in front of him despite his own long stride.

They were greeted by a few agents as they passed, making their way through the maze of hallways, but Darcy merely mumbled a reply and kept moving, only pausing when the private elevator leading to the Avengers' suites that took up the top five floors of the skyscraper, one of which was a communal living area. Tony took up the top floor, filling it with every expensive item he ever laid his eyes on, while Pepper did her best to keep some semblance of order and practicality running through it. Bruce and Darcy shared the second floor; previously, he'd been on his own, the only one besides Tony to have his own floor, equipped with a Hulk-sized panic room. Steve occupied the third floor, taking up one half which, Bruce imagined, he was thankful was sound proof since Thor and Jane had taken up residence in the other apartment across from his. And the fourth floor was what Darcy had dubbed Assassin Alley, with two apartments for Natasha and Clint, even if Darcy said it was a waste of space since they were totally boinking each other's killer brains out.

Swiping her security card to let them on, she moved to a corner of the elevator and crossed her arms under her chest, turning her eyes up to glare at the numbers as they climbed. Sighing, he moved to the opposite side of the elevator, hands tucked in the pockets of his pants, watching her, his brow arched.

"Is the silent treatment going to last a long time?" he wondered.

"It is if you're silently calling me childish or immature in your head." She looked over at him. "And don't think I won't be able to tell if you are, 'cause I might not have a mind-reading superpower, but trust me, I know that face. I've gotten it enough in my lifetime."

"I don't think you're being childish… I think you're pissed at me and you have every right to be," he said calmly.

Her arms loosened and she dropped her eyes. "Don't _do_ that."

His brows furrowed. "Do what?"

" _That_. Your whole 'understanding' schtick." She pouted her lips. "I want to be mad, I _should_ be mad, so you don't get to make me _not_ bad… Not yet anyway."

Bruce stifled a smile, dropping his chin slightly to keep her from seeing it, and looked up at her from the tops of his eyes. "Any way I might be able to speed up the process?"

"I'd say dinner, but I already ate," she said with a sarcastic smile.

He nodded, watching her for a moment. "You look beautiful, if I didn't mention it."

"I look amazing," she countered. "I spent two hours making my hair do that gentle wave thing I know you like," she said, motioning to her head.

He bit his lip. Her hair did look really good. But then, he liked it when it was tossed up in that haphazard bun she threw it in each morning after her shower, or when she twisted random braids in it when she was bored, or when it was sweaty and tangled and wrapped around his fist as he fucked her into the mattress. Generally, he just really loved Darcy's hair.

As if she knew what he was thinking, she darted a glare at him. "Not happening, Green Bean. I was stood up, hit on, and then had your prudey, vanilla staff looking at me like some wanton lady of the night because I wanted to have sex like any normal person would." She frowned as she muttered, "They're obviously immune to the wonders of your fluffy hair…"

The elevator dinged, the doors opening, and she was out and past him before he could comment. Throwing a glare at the ceiling, he counted to five and followed after her. Darcy didn't bother waiting for him, walking into their apartment, which lit up on command via JARVIS, and immediately grabbed up an elastic to tie her "gently waving" hair up and out of her face.

Bruce kicked his shoes off and reached for his tie, loosening it while he watced her as she made her way into the kitchen and started a pot of water for tea. He was pretty sure that was more out of an ingrained pattern than actually wanting tea; Darcy was a coffee addict, but after work she usually put on a pot of herbal tea for him to help him wind down. Given how irritated with him she was, and the way she was mumbling under her breath, he was pretty sure she wasn't even aware that she was still doing something nice for him while simultaneously cursing his existence.

Leaving his favorite mug on the counter, with the right amount of cream and sugar already inside, she grabbed a bag of Oreos from the cupboard and walked over to the couch, sitting on an arm while she grabbed up the remote and brought up her Netflix queue.

"We could go out tomorrow night," he suggested. "I'll ask Tony if he can pull a few strings, get us a reservation somewhere nice," he said, crossing the kitchen to wait by the tea pot.

"I'm busy," she told him. She held a hand up before he could interrupt. "And if you ask me 'doing what?' in that tone that suggests you don't think I do anything but run errands for Coulson while also juggling Jane, because she has power issues and doesn't like her new staff, you are sleeping on the couch!"

Pouring his tea as it whistled, he circled around to take a seat on the couch next to her, close enough that his shoulder was pressed into her side. "Darcy, you know I think more of you than that…"

Her lips pursed and she threw a cookie back into the bag. "Why? I don't." Her shoulders slumped. "Coulson sends me out on weird requests that he never bothers to explain and half the time I'm intercepted by Jane who's on a poptart diet and 72 hours without sleep…" Her expression hardened. "Add that to the part where my one break from freedom was dashed by science, your jerk of a mistress, and my life's just _peachy_."

Turning, he dropped his hand to her thigh and rubbed, pushing his heel down to knead at her tense muscles. She slapped his hand but didn't remove it, instead lying curved around the back of the couch, angling her body propping herself up on her arm. With a sigh, she started dragging her fingers through his hair.

"I know I'm overreacting… Sometimes I have to put myself second to your work, I get that. It's not like you're in fast food; you could literally be saving lives in there. I just…" She blew out a long breath. "I wanted some time alone, just you and me, no work, no— no responsibilities for a little while…" With a whine, she added, "And I really wanted to have sex in Tony's town car!"

He laughed, before reaching his arm beneath her and dragging her into his lap. "I'll make it up to you," he promised.

She rested her elbow on his shoulder and looked down at him from her perch. "I know you will…" She brushed her fingers through the graying hair at his temple. "I just feel like milking this for all it's worth."

He smirked slowly. "It's not a town car, but the couch has the same general feel to it."

"Without the buttery leather seats, jarring movement, or the adrenaline shot of maybe being caught by the driver, sure," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Pessimist," he muttered, turning her so she was straddling him, her knees biting down into the couch on either side of him. Turning his head up, he buried his face at her neck and rubbed his cheeks and chin, scratchy with a day's worth of whiskers, against her soft skin until she squeaked and gripped his shoulders in her fingers.

"Step one in asking forgiveness," he said, reaching down to tug at the fabric of her dress, dragging it up her hips until it pooled at her waist. "Orgasms."

"I like how plural that sounds," she laughed, letting her head fall back as he mouthed kisses across her neck and dragged his teeth over her clavicle.

Pushing her dress up a few more inches, he ran his hands over the black lace of her thong, sliding his hands down to cup her ass and squeeze. She bit her lip and let out a deep moan, arching her hips down against him.

One hand slid away to find the zipper of her dress, fumbling through the seemingly seamless fabric. With a deep chuckle, she reached around, found the thin zipper and pulled it down, hunching her shoulders so she could shrug them free. He gripped the bottom and yanked it up her body until it slipped free for him to toss aimlessly to the floor, forgotten.

She was wearing the matching bra, satin green ribbon criss-crossing between her breasts, more for show than support. He dropped his chin to the top of her cleavage and looked up at her. "Am I making any head-way here?"

"You're wearing too many clothes," she complained. To rectify that, she tugged his tie off before unbuttoning his shirt deftly and pulling it free of his pants, which he worked the button and zipper of. She pushed up onto her knees as he shoved his pants and boxer-briefs away, kicking them off his ankles. She settled back on his knees and dropped a hand into her bra, pulling a condom free.

At his raised eyebrow, she reminded, "Town car sex. I came prepared."

He grinned, shaking his head slightly. "Girl scout after my own heart."

She scoffed. "Please. That's been stamped and approved as mine from day one."

Before he could say anything, she bent forward abruptly and swirled her tongue around the head of his cock. He jolted, his hand reaching for and burying in her hair.

"Mmm," she hummed, licking a stripe down his length before saying, "I love yoga."

His reply died on a moan as she sunk back down and took as much of him as she could fit into her mouth. Bruce's free hand shook; he brought it up and bit down on the back as he fought for control against the warm wave that ran through him. Darcy liked to tease him; she wasn't scared that he'd lose the tight reign on his emotions, Hulking out suddenly, and so far, in the three years they'd been dating and sleeping together, he hadn't. But then, The Other Guy loved Darcy and her free-wielding tazer ways. Sometimes Bruce thought the Hulk recognized that he was with her and so he didn't push his way forward.

He didn't have a lot of time to ponder that thought, however, as Darcy was stroking him as she sucked on the head of his cock, rubbing the tip of her tongue along the slit.

"Nnnh, stop, _stop_ ," he said, rubbing his hand over her shoulder. "I can't…"

She drew her mouth free with a pop and sat back, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra, tossing the fabric away before grabbing up the condom.

"Not yet," he said, reaching for her. Gripping her thighs, he pulled her closer and drew her legs up, parting them. She was balanced on his knees, her hands on his shoulders for a little more support, and bit her lip as his hand slid across her thigh. He squeezed, kneading her soft flesh, dragging his knuckles up close, but bypassing her pussy to instead rub his thumb over the seam of her hip meeting her thigh. His fingers slid up her waist and paused, scrubbing at her ribs, where she squirmed at the ticklish feeling. He curved his hand around her breast, cupping it, bringing his thumb up to rub and press against her nipple, watching as it pebbled under his touch. He leaned forward and latched his mouth onto her, sucking and gently biting her pink areola.

She pressed into his mouth, arching against his tongue as it dragged across her. Her fingers tangled in his hair and gripped tight. His other hand slid underneath her, cupping her wet heat, his middle finger dragging along her slit. He traced her folds, rubbing her juices into her sensitive skin before he circled her entrance and dipped his finger in just a little before circling away.

"You're in trouble, now is now the time for teasing," she said through gritted teeth.

He smirked up at her, which was difficult enough with his mouth wrapped around her nipple. Flicking his thumb, he caught her clit, and watched as her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a whimper.

Reaching up, she untied her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders, settling over the tops of her breasts, tickling his nose. He kneaded the peak of her breast before sliding his hand up to tangle in her hair, knotting it up in his fingers just under her ear. His thumb swept back, tracing the hinge of her jaw.

She opened her eyes to stare down at him, hooded blue eyes dark with want. He leaned up and pulled her down in the same instant, kissing her as he sunk his finger inside her and rubbed her clit with his thumb.

She cried out against his lips, her nails biting into his neck and shoulders as she pressed down against his hand and met his kiss, tongue flicking at the back of his teeth. Sloppy kisses were traded for a few minutes while she rocked herself on his finger, plunging in and out of her slowly. Finally, breathing hard, she just panted against his mouth, resting her forehead against his. He slid his arm down her back and gripped her waist, drawing her in closer as he slid a second finger inside her and sped up. She bit down on his lower lip as she came, a sheen of sweat glistening on her skin, gripping and fluttering around his fingers, her whole body shaking and tightening, spasming at random.

Fuck, but she was beautiful when she came.

There was a thread of possession that always flowed through him when he watched her; a voice inside him that growled 'mine.' Darcy would be the first to remind him of the women's movement and her feminism flag would fly high and free. He not only agreed with it, but he loved that about her. When he really took apart the feeling, he deduced it had more to do with not ever wanting to lose her. Not so much as _possessing_ her as keeping that feeling of love and passion between them.

There was a reason why after years of believing he'd never have what he wanted, marriage and a family, he now had a velvet box hidden away. He didn't imagine proposing after he flaked on their date was a good idea, but it didn't change his plans any. He wanted this with her for a lifetime and for once he wasn't letting his fears or his insecurities about The Other Guy get in the way of that. She'd barged into his life, basically demanding that he give them a chance, and it was the first time he decided not to let the Hulk dictate what he did or who with. It was the best decision of his life.

She took a minute, her eyes closed, before she kissed down his cheek and buried her face at his neck, stretching her back and flexing her thighs. "One orgasm ticked in your column for apology accepted," she murmured, pressing wet kisses down his shoulder.

He chuckled deeply before reaching for the condom packet.

She turned her head and took it from him, tearing it open with her teeth and sitting back so she could roll it on him, stroking his shaft a few times and watching with a smirk as he squirmed and gripped her thighs, fingers digging in so hard he thought they might bruise.

Her hands found his shoulders again as she shuffled in closer and sunk down on him; he watched as a few inches disappeared between her shaking thighs. Her breath hitched and she swiveled her hips, squeezing around him.

"Jesus, fuck," he muttered.

She laughed under her breath; she loved it when he cursed.

Bruce's hands circled her hips and stirred them, pushing up into her until she slid down on him further, finally seating herself completely in his lap, spasming around his whole cock. She was so warm, so tight; this feeling, of being completely wrapped in her, never got old.

Her hands slid down from his chest, fingers dragging through the dark hair that fanned out over his torso. She scratched her nails across his stomach and settled her grip on his hips before she pushed herself up, clenching and releasing around him as she went. As she took him back in sharply, her breasts bounced. He leaned forward and buried his mouth against her, his hand sliding around to the small of her back, tracing circles, dragging his fingers up her spine.

She let out a breathless giggle; her skin was ticklish on her lower back. He slid his other hand around to cup her bottom before he slid it along the side of her thigh. A sharp scrape dragged over the back of his hand and he looked down to see her black fuck-me-pumps were still on; his hand had grazed the sharp heel.

The image of her naked, but for her shoes, was visceral. He pumped into her a little harder, pushing his hips up and canting them so her clit was rubbing against him as he moved. One of her hands buried at the nape of his neck and squeezed tight. " _Bruce!_ "

He knew that voice; that high-pitched cry that filled it. He slid his hand between them and rubbed her clit, his teeth digging in around her nipple, pinching as her hips stuttered, pushing and pulling, rocking as she moved faster, coming hard.

He rubbed his face against the skin between her breasts and smiled. "Orgasm number two," he said, his voice noticeably rough. "Official multiples territory, Miss. Lewis."

She was smiling blissfully, her fingers slowly loosening from his hair and instead lightly scratching at his neck. Her cheeks were flushed; it spread down her neck and fanned out across her upper chest, giving her a pink glow.

Slowly, her eyes opened and she leaned down to capture his mouth in a slow, drugging kiss. She pressed him back against the couch, pinning him with her body, their chests flattened together, taking her time. And then she was moving; just her hips, circling them, arching them back, while keeping the rest of her flush with him. One of her hands slid down between their bodies, her nails lightly grazing his shaft as she pulled off him.

His hands slid down to grip her ass and help her movements, thumbs rubbing the crease between her cheeks and her thighs. She traded between kissing his mouth and dropping her head down to bite his shoulder. She pushed back suddenly and slid her head down, hair trailing over his stomach, as she flattened her tongue against his nipple and bit down. He jerked up inside her, letting out a hitched moan.

"One more. One more and you're forgiven," she told him, nuzzling his chest with her nose. "You come, I come, and it's happy sailing until the next science coma."

He dropped his head back, panting. "The make-up sex is amazing. Are you really all that worried about next time?" he managed.

She grinned, reaching back to grip the heels of her shoes, arching her back and pressing her hips back, grinding down against him.

"Fuck, Darcy," he growled.

"Yes, exactly, _fuck Darcy_ ," she told him.

His hands slid up her ribs and gave up on control, snapping his hips and pounding into her, his heels digging down against the floor for leverage.

"Uhn, _uhn_ , **_uhn_** ," she cried, getting progressively louder, pulsing around him.

She arched backwards almost impossibly, breasts thrust out, his hands covering and kneading them, plucking and rolling her nipples between his fingers, as she climaxed. He pressed deep inside her as his vision went white and he came, feeling her squeeze and shake all around him. His lips moved, mouthing her name, but he couldn't make out any sound for a few seconds.

When he blinked away the haze, every muscle in his body feeling both tight and relaxed, he was boneless, panting, sweat clinging to his skin.

Slowly, Darcy drew herself back up and fell against him, releasing her shoes, the indents of which had bitten into her palms. She wrapped her arms loosely around his waist and dropped her face to his shoulder. He petted her damp hair back, tracing his fingers over her shoulders for a few minutes. Her palm laid flat against his heart, fingers absently tapping out the beat as it went from racing to a calm, steady staccato.

Eventually, she climbed off him and got rid of the condom, returning with a warm cloth for him to wipe himself off with. When that was taken care of, she simply seated herself back in his lap.

Rubbing his hands down her body, he wondered, "So? Forgiven?"

"Yes." She smiled lazily, turning her head up. "But I still want that date tomorrow… Screw work; I want fresh air and expensive food."

He smirked. "And a town car?"

"Mmm…" She nodded, turning her head to nip his collar bone. "And you should bring your lab coat… You can leave it in the car though."

He laughed. "Why do I get the feeling I won't be the one wearing it?"

With a soft chuckle, she shrugged. "You know me so well…"

"I'd venture to call myself the leading expert in all things Darcy Lewis," he told her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Was there a competition?" she wondered sleepily. "Because if Jane was only running on pop-tarts, you had an unfair advantage."

He half-grinned. "I took Gold."

She patted his shoulder and yawned. "Good job. We'll put it with your other achievements. Some of which are unlabeled, but happen to stand for awesome orgasm giver and fantastic kisser."

"Some of my best work," he agreed.

"You know what else you're good at?"

He scrubbed his nails down her lower back, smiling as she shivered. "Hmm?"

"Carrying me to bed," she told him, snuggling deeper against him.

"I will… When my legs stop shaking."

She smirked then. "Darcy Lewis, _best_ orgasm giver."

"And we're all very proud of you."

"Fuck yeah we are," she mumbled.

It was a few minutes before Bruce had enough strength to climb off the couch and carry her to bed, taking off her shoes as he went, watching as she slept peacefully, blissful and trusting. He laid her down in their bed and climbed in next to her, drawing her back so she was tucked against his chest, feeling his own contentedness rush through him. As he drifted off, nose buried in her hair, he decided their date tomorrow was going to be the day he brought out that velvet box; he fell asleep smiling.

Town car sex involved one lab coat, her fuck-me-pumps, and a glittering diamond engagement ring winking on her finger. Second best decision of his life.

[ **End.** ]

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you wondering, these were the shoes I used for inspiration:   
> 


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